What Child is This?
by Helaine85
Summary: Duo reflects on his past at Maxwell Church on Christmas Eve. Kinda sad, but still not angst! ^__^ R&R!


AN: This is a songfic, but it's not necessarily written the way one usually does. It's something I wrote around Christmas time, about Duo and his past at the Maxwell Church.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, or the characters. Can't imagine why anyone would ever think I did.  
  
What Child is This?  
  
  
  
"What child is this who laid to rest on Mary's lap is sleeping? Whom angels greet with anthems sweet while shepherds watch our keeping…"  
  
   
  
The old melody filled his dreams, scents of candles mixing with fire, comfort mixing with fear… He was so warm, so safe in this hidden sanctuary, a bit of Heaven that he had somehow fallen into, and was now held in the arms of an angel.  
  
   
  
The black robed sleeves held him lovingly, a motherly warmth emanating from the woman that held him close. His mother? he wondered. No, she had died years ago.  
  
   
  
No, this woman was an angel, or maybe she was a saint like the ones they told him about, like Mary.  
  
   
  
The golden glow of flickering candles filled this place, incense drifting from the altar. He stood at a long wooden pew, tiny hands woven together tightly.  
  
   
  
Their song continued, a song with words so ancient that they outdated the colonies themselves. He watched their faces as the light and shadows danced upon them. The woman, Sister Helen, smiled down at him and stroked his long hair, which she had braided (with some difficulty), earlier that day. He smiled, a lop-sided happy grin. He wanted to stay here forever, but even he knew that the war was coming.  
  
   
  
"I'll protect them," he vowed, tiny hands balled into fists.  
  
   
  
Sister Helen heard his whispered promise, and saw the shadow in his eyes. She shuddered and a solitary tear rolled down her cheek. Instinctively, she crossed herself, saying a prayer for the child that Death had chosen.  
  
   
  
"This, this is Christ the King, whom shepherds guard and angels sing. Haste, haste to bring him laud the babe, the son of Mary."  
  
   
  
Father Maxwell kneeled down beside them, smiling kindly at the orphaned boy that he had grown to love. Moving slowly, he looped a silver chain around the boy's neck, a simple cross hanging against his chest.  
  
   
  
In amazement, he stared down at the crucifix, his small hand coming up to close around it. Father Maxwell hugged him for a moment and then a made a blessing over the cross and its bearer.  
  
   
  
"Remember, he is always with you," he whispered before walking away to continue the Christmas Mass.  
  
   
  
"I'll remember," he said, holding the cross firmly to his heart.  
  
   
  
"Why lies he in such mean estate, where ox and ass are feeding? Good Christians fear for sinners here the silent word is pleading."  
  
   
  
Echoes of long ago days from before he was alone, days with Solo and the other orphans. He could remember those nights before Solo died, when they would look out at the stars and pretend there was no war, no hunger, no cold…  
  
   
  
How he wished that just for one moment Solo could've known what he knew now. He remembered Solo telling him about a man that had died for them all, so that no matter how bad things got here, Solo would see him again someday. Duo knew he would.  
  
   
  
"So bring him incense, gold and myrrh come peasant king to own him. The king of kings salvation brings let loving hearts enthrone him."  
  
   
  
   
  
   
  
   
  
Duo looked up from his glass of honey colored wine. The fire lit it up, making it glow like gold. He watched the flames devour the wood, leaping as they consumed it.  
  
   
  
He touched his cross, recalling a memory from nearly a decade ago. This night was important.  
  
   
  
"This, this is Christ the King whom shepherds guard and angels sing. Haste, haste to bring him laud the babe, the son of Mary."  
  
   
  
His voice ended the song softly, and he smiled just slightly as he fingered the crucifix.  
  
   
  
"Merry Christmas, Father Maxwell."  
  
   
  
   
  
~Owari~ 


End file.
